


Only Mickey

by Army C (arh581958)



Series: Comfort [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian, Co-Dependency, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, I just really want Ian sucking Mickey's nipples, Just Bear With Me, M/M, Nipple Licking, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i finally wrote, it was hard to write, nipple sucking, then it became a thing, this universe is slowly expanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7347529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Army%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it first started, Ian didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t live for days which felt like an eternity for everyone around him. No one to get through him—even Mickey. At least, at the start, it included Mickey but that changed.</p><p>Huffing, Mickey tore off his shirt. It’s not like other haven’t seen him prancing around half-naked most of the time anyway. Screw propriety. Ian surged into him again, and latched on to Mickey’s nipple before the older boy could pull away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Mickey

**Author's Note:**

> I did it! I finally did it! I finally had the courage to try and write a bipolar!Ian even if it wasn't in his perspective. It was so hard to write. So, I've been thinking about this universe a lot lately, and I kept thinking of Ian responding only to Mickey during his catatonic stupor. It's my headcanon that, even if it's not immediately, Mickey helps pulling him away from that. Then, somehow, a little bit of not-so-smut thing happened in the middle. Oops!
> 
> **Not Beta Read. Open for Volunteers.**

Ian responded to Mickey alone.

When the thing—the symptoms—first started, Ian didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t _live_ for days which felt like an eternity for everyone around him. They tiptoed around him and spoke in poorly hushed whispers like he wasn’t there. _Like Monica_ , it haunted him. No one to get through him—even Mickey. Even Mickey. At least, at the start, it included Mickey.

Mickey, being Mickey, didn’t want to let his stupid Gallagher down again. He cut back his hours in pretending to guard the _Rub N’ Tug_ whilst his mind wandered off the red-haired guy curled up on the rickety twin bed, probably curled up under threadbare sheets in the middle of summer. _His_ red-haired guy.

He persisted.

Night after night, no matter what time he finished up whatever job he needed to do so that food can be served on table, he came home to Ian in the exact position he envisioned.

“Hey,” he greeted, wary of Liam already asleep in the far corner of the room, “I’m home.”

As usual, Ian completely ignored him.

Mickey shed the rest of his jacket. He smelled faintly of the cigarettes and sweat, and very briefly contemplated if he should take a shower to rinse the worse of it away. The Gallagher house had shit plumbing; not only was the water cold but he would wake half its occupants if he so much as attempted it.

Shrugging, he toed off his pants and slid under the covers. Ian shifted to give him more room. His mood hasn’t eased up at all. But, it was better than clinging to the edge of the bed like Mickey had done for the past few days. He nosed at Ian’s nape in gratitude, and Ian huffed a little in response.

Tonight, it was enough.

***

Ian smelled— _like really bad_.

Mickey didn’t really care. It didn’t stop him from burying his nose against Ian’s neck when he slid into bed the next night. Who wouldn’t smell a little funky after being stuck in bed as long as Ian? No one. And, out of all of them, Ian would still smell the best to him because “Ian is Ian,” he whispered, just to himself but he also didn’t know _who_ he was convincing.

Something about those words struck Ian, because he was suddenly shifting around the bed, making a racket, to face Mickey. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other face-to-face since _it_ started showing.

Mickey had so many questions, so many worries, so many things he wanted to say. For the life of him, he couldn’t open his mouth to say anything.

Neither does Ian.

It’s also the most that _anyone_ has gotten out of Ian in days. Mickey didn’t want to jinx what was happening. So, he just lay there staring at his maybe-boyfriend with big wide eyes and praying to deities that he wouldn’t fuck up his chance.

Ian moved again. This time, to the spot between Mickey’s torso and his arms. It tickled.

“Hey, man, I haven’t taken a shower. I already know I sick, a’yt? No need to rub it in. It’s not like you smell like roses and daisy either.” Mickey snorted defensively before he realized it. His eyes shoot open. “No, I was just, uh, hey—owww!” He yelped, feeling Ian’s _teeth_ against his nipple. “What the fuck, man? Whatcha’doin’ biting me for? Fuck!”

Mickey pushed Ian away, not hard, but enough to dislodge the teeth from his sore muscle. It throbbed, wet and perky because of Ian’s saliva and the cool Chicago air, even the soft cotton of his shirt felt like sandpaper. Huffing, he tore off his shirt. It’s not like other haven’t seen him prancing around half-naked most of the time anyway. Screw propriety.

Ian surged into him again, and latched on to Mickey’s nipple before the older boy could pull away.

“Oh,” Mickey’s lips fall open into a dumbfounded circle. _That’s_ what Ian wanted. “A’yt, a’yt.” He adjusted their limbs for a better position. One that would simultaneously _not_ be embarrassing to wake up in, and that ensure Ian wouldn’t crush him with his giraffe-like limbs before the night was through.

They end up with Mickey half reclined on the headboard with Ian between his legs. Ian curled up in Mickey’s arms, still sucking the nipple gently between his lips. It stung, of course it would, the first bite hadn’t been gentle.

Mickey gritted his teeth. “I’m not a girl, ya know? Milk ain’t comin’ out no matter how hard you suck, Gallagher. That’s pretty useless.” He wanted it to sound fond but gruff voice reminiscent of scolding was the best that he could do.

Ian stopped abruptly, making Mickey freeze.

Then, he very quietly murmured, “I know,” before moving to the other nipple.

Unlike the first, the left one didn’t hurt as bad as the right one since Ian didn’t bite it.

Mickey didn’t know how to respond to the situation—at all. He was never one for _nipple play_ since he _never_ fucked anyone face-to-face Ian _ever_. He wasn’t into foreplay before Ian either. Hell, there was a whole hell of things that he never tried before Ian came into the picture because he didn’t trust anyone enough to do it.

Ian was different though.

This—Ian’s mouth gentling sucking his tit—didn’t feel the least bit sexual, not at all.

It felt kind of strange having Ian’s face squished between his pecs, three-day stubble scratching his skin but sucking him like a babe.

They were pressed together in many places. His chin on Ian’s head. Half of Ian’s body against his chest. His inner legs bracketing Ian. Ian like a large human-sized ball of warmth in front of him. And yet, his nipple on Ian’s mouth burned the hottest.

Mickey had never felt anything like this.

It felt raw and hot, and _real_. Whatever they had between them, Mickey already somehow knew, even if he avoided it or denied, was the real deal. He was in this for the long-run. Ian ruined him for everyone else.  

“Damnit, Ian.” he muttered under his breath, bottom lip quivering with the unspoken things between them. He settled down more comfortably. A stray hand pushed Ian’s sweaty bangs away. “Fucker’s gonna hurt in the morning.”

Ian made a small whining noise and cuddled closer.

***

Mickey had a day off the following morning. His first since the whole thing started. Normally, he would be up and about before Fiona came busting in the room to wake up Carl for school.

Ian stayed on him for most of the night because he woke up for bits and pieces of it. He didn’t bother moving the red-head off him because if Ian needed that from him then he damn well sure wouldn’t deny it. It was the smallest bit of comfort that he could offer.

Mickey decided to sleep-in on his day off.

The door opened with a bang. Fiona marched inside and did the routine kick-and-nag things to wake up Carl, then turned around to stomp out of the room muttering something about packed lunches. That’s when she saw them.

Mickey knew exactly _when_ her brain managed to fit the pieces together. He stared at her awkwardly while a koala-Ian snuggled closer to his chest, mouth unconsciously sucking.

“How long…” Fiona sounded as flabbergasted as she looked, “…how long has, erhm, this been going on?” She gestured vaguely to their direction. Ever the parent, she tacked on a few more question without waiting for Mickey to answer. “Has this been a _thing_? Does he do this a lot? When did he even _move_?”

“Will you shut the fuck up with the questions? It’s like I’m in a holding cell or something. How’d you expect anything if you don’t stop talking?” Mickey groused, giving her his best death glare with little to no sleep, which wasn’t really much if he thought about it.

Fiona glowered. “Are you going to explain or what?”

“It happened last night, a’yt? It just sorta happened.”

“What _did you do_?”

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why does everyone thinks it’s always my fault, huh? Nothing! I went to bed like normal and he just—” he avoided her eyes “—went for it, okay? Then, fell back asleep. Was I supposed to shake him off or something? He’s finally sleeping!”

“He’s just… he’s never done that to anyone.” Fiona sighed, not a relieved kind of sigh but a resigned one. She looked conflicted about it. In the end, she shook her head and left the room.

Carl woke up and looked at them groggily.

“Go take a bath!” Mickey flipped him off, and went back to sleep.

***

When Mickey woke up some time in the middle of the day, Ian was gone.

His first instinct was to panic and call the cavalry about the possibility of Ian going AWOL again. Just as was thumbing through his phone to get all the people on the recipient box, Ian appeared at the doorway.

Ian only wore a towel slung low over his hips. His patsy complexion was nowhere near its previous glory but he looked _alive_. He glanced at Mickey sheepishly. His eyes are focused to the swollen twin peaks on Mickey’s chest, red and sore just like Ian’s lips.

“So, uh, it’s a little late but Fiona left some sandwiches, or I think Debbie accidentally forgot her lunch again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I could eat.” Mickey took a shirt off the floor and sniffed it. He’d take a shower later anyway. There was no point in finding a cleaner shirt. He shrugged it on and hissed. “Oww, Christ, _fuck_.” His nipples were sore as fuck.

Ian turned to him with concern. “You alright, Mickey?”

Mickey rotated his shoulders, figuring it’d be more discreet than physically pulling the fabric away from his chest. He was wrong. It only made the inside of his shirt rub against the sensitive buds.

“Did I—was that—because of… me?” Ian stared at him with a mix of shock and shame. “Mickey, I’m…”

“If you’re gonna say sorry, _shut the fuck up_. Did it help you sleep?”

“What?”

A terse moment passed between them.

Mickey rubbed his thumb over his lip, feeling at little awkward and nervous. “I asked if that—if sucking my, my—if _it_ helped, a’yt? Did it?”

“Yes,” Ian quietly admitted.

Mickey released a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Then, it’s fine, if it helped, it’s fine. Hey, I’m starving here, man, don’t I get some breakfast for watching your ass all night? And I don’t want some soggy sandwich either.”

A small smile slowly formed on Ian’s lips the one smile that was reserved for Mickey, and Mickey alone, and the tension in the room dissipated. “I’ll make pancakes.”

They semi-wrestled their way to the kitchen, just like old times. Mickey’s shirt rubbed against his nipples every time Ian nudged him.

Maybe, he kind of liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> On a side note, I think I'm on a high right now. I have so many ideas and I can't wait to write them. I also cannot wait to meet you all when I finally reveal who I am (if I ever do). You guys are awesome! Especially the three lovely people who have commented on every single story in the series so far; cdt1234, CarrieLouise, and MinnieM1. And to maryellen590 because you've the first one to actually welcome-welcome me to the fandom~ Stay lovely you guys~
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [INSPIRE ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr. Or [TALK TO ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/ask)~
> 
> As always, **kudos/comments/bookmarks** are all appreciated by this author. I take comments as extra-kudos and I _do_ read the bookmark tags (some are really fun).


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